Eve Veritas peered through her darkened living room, pulling the damp towel tighter around her freshly showered body. She fumbled for the light switch and flicked it to reveal the usual setting of her neat abode - not a thing was out of place. Her Beverly Hills apartment was furnished with blinding whites and deep blacks, every inch appearing sterile and unused, as if no one ever really lived in the place.

Suddenly, she heard a sound - very faint, but clearly audible in her silent, empty shell of a home. The sound was laughter.

"Hello," Eve called, a frightened chill reminding her of the vulnerability her current barely-covered state presented. "Is someone there?"

She heard more faint whisperings, but still saw no one. Then it dawned on her. Eve went to her purse on the kitchen counter and retrieved a small metal container. She opened it and found what she was missing - her lenses. She turned, and wasn't surprised to find someone sitting on her couch, where only moments ago she had seen empty space.

"Hello Duncan, I should have known it was you."

"Hey, Evie, how've ya been?" Duncan asked.

"How have I been? You mean since the last time you came here unannounced and scared the hell out of me? Well, I was doing just fine," Eve replied angrily, pulling the towel even tighter around her. "Now what can I do for you Duncan?"

Well, you can start by letting go of that towel, baby," he replied, leering at her with a knowing smile that made her chills run deep into her bones.

"His name ," Eve snapped back, "is Logan, and you know that. You've known that for years. Now Duncan, can you please just leave me alone?"

"I try," he replied, suddenly very serious, his face finally giving up that unnerving smile. "You know I try to just forget you, but it's so hard...you sure seemed to move on pretty damn quick though."

"Duncan...it wasn't like that and you know it. I cared about you, but I...I just don't love you like that anymore. I can't , you know that," Eve said, a sad smile crossing her face. She hated to see him hurt like that.

Their sorrowful gazes were broken when a key turned in the front door. Logan was home.

"Hey sweetie," he said, greeting his wife with a peck on the cheek, and then, "Hello Duncan..."

"Hey Logan," Duncan replied, spitting out his name like it tasted sour on his tongue. He looked down and hid his face as the tears began to well in his eyes, and then he was gone.

"Well he hasn't shown up in a while," Logan mused. "I hoped he had finally been able to move on."

"I guess not. I really feel horrible, though. I hate to see him cry. I never once saw Duncan cry when he was still alive."